


the way in which we fall apart

by vreaa



Series: crumble, repair: a cycle (dream smp au) [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dream Smp, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Pain, They talk, dreamnotfound, wow that stream really fucked me up huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27970709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vreaa/pseuds/vreaa
Summary: "You've chosen your side, then." Dream finalises quietly. His stomach is heavy.George releases a breath through clenched teeth, and his shoulders slump. "Yeah."—Dream seeks George out on the night that he's dethroned.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (mentioned), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: crumble, repair: a cycle (dream smp au) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048815
Comments: 27
Kudos: 226
Collections: MCYT





	the way in which we fall apart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aureahlin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aureahlin/gifts).



> this is in no way connected to the events of [Desiderium](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27895432) (another dreamsmp fic about last friday's stream that me and a bunch of my friends wrote), and yeah HAHA
> 
> also note that dnf is just for fun, shoving fics and the ship in the cc's faces is Not Desireable at All, so please try not to!! if any of the cc's state that they are uncomfortable with being shipped, the fic will be removed without any hesitation. enjoy, dnf slaves <3

Dream seeks George out, in the night. When shadows dance across the land and he can lose his mask in the midst of the darkness.

George rests, legs crossed, by a river. As Dream approaches, he recognises the shape of it, the soft trickles of the water and the way the moon reflects across the surface. It's almost as if George had known he'll come here, almost as if George had been waiting for him.

"Dream." George acknowledges. His eyes are firmly locked on the little creases in the river water.

"You knew I would be here," he says simply in reply. He sits down on the grass next to George, and eyes the gap between their fingers.

George inhales – the sound of his breathing is something Dream has never thought he'll miss, but the little noise still seems to soothe a small, empty crevice in his chest – and nods. "I did."

Something in Dream swells at that — if all else is lost then at least he has yet to lose the way they just seem to _know_ each other.

"What do you want?" George asks. He hasn't looked at Dream once.

Dream opens his mouth, focuses his gaze on the shape of George's jaw, and the word rolls off his tongue easily. "You."

George scoffs, sharp. "I can't believe you sometimes. After all you did, you still have the balls to say that?"

The wind whips past their ears. Dream bristles, annoyance spiking. "Dethroning you was for your own good."

"Was shooting Sapnap and Quackity for my own good, too?" George shoots back, voice rising.

Dream hesitates. The image of Sapnap's face contorting in pain as the arrow pierced into his arm flashes before his eyes, and he wets his dry lips. "They were being uncooperative."

George finally turns to him. His eyes are just as breathtaking as Dream remembers. "They were protecting me," his gaze shines with something mournful, "from _you_."

Dream doesn't say anything. He watches as the wind tousles George's hair.

"I don't want to have to be protected from _you_ , Dream." George says, and his eyes glisten. "It just feels… _wrong_."

"I know," Dream says, and he does. More than anyone thinks he does. "I know."

"So," George's hands lift up from the grass and flop back down uselessly. "Why? Why does it have to be like this?"

 _Why did you have to hurt us?_ His eyes say.

There's a throbbing in Dream's heart. "It doesn't have to be like this." His right hand moves, and then their palms are overlapping. George leans in closer. "There's a way."

He stares into George, pushing all the honesty and meaning in his chest into his words. "Come join me. Be on my side."

George pulls away. Dream blanks at the loss of contact.

"George," he says, more urgent, and takes a second to relish in the taste of George's name on his tongue, "please. I can keep you safe." That's all he ever wanted — to keep the people he loves safe.

"I can protect you," he tries again, as George doesn't respond, "and Sapnap, too, once he gets over himself. Come on, Georgie," the nickname hits him, throws him back into days of sunlight and wheezing and giggles, "it's always been the three of us against the world. We've always been on the same side."

George shakes his head slowly, and Dream's heart drops. "If you really cared, you wouldn't have shot at Sapnap and Quackity."

"I told you, they–"

" _No_ , Dream." George's eyes are a serious brown. "Can't you see?" His right palm goes up to fit against Dream's cheek, and Dream melts into his touch easily. "You're going about this wrong."

"I know you mean well," George says, soft, "I know you're not trying to ruin everything on purpose–"

Dream stiffens. "Ruin everything?"

"No!" George amends hurriedly, looking as if Dream will disappear with the wind any minute, "just– you're right. It doesn't have to be like this. It doesn't have to be about the _discs_ –"

"But it _is_ about the discs, George." It's Dream's turn to move away. "With the discs, I get power, with the discs, I can–"

"Why is it _always_ about power with you?" George snaps, eyes an exasperated sort of frustration, "why can't you just choose peace–"

"Because that's not how the world works, George!" He spits, a nasty feeling in his gut telling him to turn back, turn _back_ –

"And _that's_ why we're like this, Dream." George's smile is resigned, sad. 

There's silence, only broken by the occasional sound of their breathing. The sound of George's breaths doesn't comfort him anymore, not in the way that it did at the beginning of their conversation.

"You've chosen your side, then." Dream finalises quietly. His stomach is heavy.

George releases a breath through clenched teeth, and his shoulders slump. "Yeah."

And Dream wonders what happened to them. They'd been inseparable, once. wherever you'd see a flash of bright green, you'd see glimpses of blue and a white headband fluttering in the wind right next to it. They'd used to stand on the same side, knuckles barely brushing as they faced off their opponents together.

George is the enemy, now. they're the ones facing each other across the battlefield, stances rigid and bodies ready to strike, but Dream doesn't know if he'll ever be able to bring himself to do it, really. Injuring them, giving them wounds that'll heal, is one thing. Bringing them down is another.

 _Bringing them down_ , he thinks again. The words echo, unfamiliar in this context, around in his head. He's never had to think about them – Sapnap, his _brother_ ; George, his _maybe-something-more_ ; the two of them, the closest thing he's ever had to a family – like this before.

He's really, truly alone now.

He'll no longer have Sapnap's crude jokes in his right ear and George's fond reprimands in his left, no longer get to send teasingly flirtatious remarks – that just might mean something a little bit _more_ – to George, just to get a reaction out of him, no longer get to cherish them in the way he wants to cherish them. It's all gone. Lost. With a single sentence that had slipped out at the wrong time, carried around by the wrong people, and Dream–

"I didn't want this," he admits. Saying it aloud is like revealing a secret, vulnerable part of him to the dangers and unknowns of the outside world. His words get tangled in the wind, blown away into George's pale ears.

George's gaze hardens. "Well, then. Maybe you shouldn't have left so much."

He's talking about the trips, of course. It had started way before _this_ semi-war, even before the time when Schlatt still held a reign of terror and George had been an unimportant member of his cabinet. It had started with the trips to catch a breather, to escape from the ghosts of L'manburg's War for Independence, then they became trips to Pogtopia, trips to collect materials to help them from the shadows, then the trips to the reformed L'manburg, to sort out his shit with Tommy and to negotiate an ending with Tubbo. George hadn't been happy about him leaving from the start.

Dream pushes his hands through his hair and brings his bangs away from his forehead. He's tired. "Are we seriously having this argument again? Now?"

George shoots him a sharp look. "You left for days in a row. An entire week, once. How were we supposed to know where you were?" He leans in closer, his dark eyes burning into Dream's. "How were we supposed to know what you were doing? What you had planned?" His finger stabs into Dream's netherite armour. It doesn't leave a scratch, but Dream feels like a hole has been punctured through his chest nonetheless. "You didn't _trust_ us with that information. We had to learn about things that you did from Karl and Quackity, Dream. _Karl and Quackity._ " The accusing look on his face falls away, and all that's left is one of resignation. "Why did they know more about you than we did?"

George pauses. His gaze never strays from Dream's, and it's soulful, but distant. Mesmerising, but shielded. Dream recalls a time when he'd been able to lose himself in those eyes fully, when there'd been no barriers between them. When their bond had been nothing if not unbreakable.

"We're only like this because of _you_ , Dream."

And Dream has so many things he wants to say. So many things he wants to protest about, about how _power_ is the only way to keep everyone he loves safe, about how withholding information had been for their trio's own good, about how he'd lied, back then in front of those obsidian walls, in front of Tommy, and that he _does_ care. So much more than George will ever realise, so much that he's _scared_ of it, sometimes. It's a liability. A weakness. But he can't seem to stop himself from caring, after all this time.

Dream looks at George, and the words don't come out.

George smiles, strained, and it feels like disappointment. "You shouldn't– We shouldn't–" He swallows, and Dream's eyes follow the slight bob of his adam's apple. "We shouldn't meet like this anymore. We're not on the same side this time."

"But we can be," the words tear from his throat, desperate, "we can be if you just–"

"Just what?" George laughs. It's foreign and grating to Dream's ears. "Abandon Sapnap? The person who's stuck by my side this whole time?" His gaze switches to the river. "I can't do that."

Dream wants to reach for him. Wants to pull him against his chest and never have to let go, wants to lace their fingers together and let their breaths intermingle as his lips seek out his, wants to have him by _his_ side, his side and no one else's. He wants, he wants, and he _wants–_

George gets up and walks away. 

He doesn't look back, and Dream continues to want.

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to reah, my lovely wife on the dtss, because i adore her and she deserves the world :)
> 
> but yeah i love writing these kinds of scenes (in case you Couldn't Tell) and i got the idea for it today and couldn't put it down HAHAHAHA 
> 
> if you enjoyed, feel free to leave comments and kudos >:) ily bye 
> 
> you can scream at me on twitter too [@vrealitical](https://twitter.com/vrealitical)


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